Aphoristic Snapshots
by fadedillusion101
Summary: A collection of one hundred drabbles featuring the unorthodox romance between the Powerpuff Girls and the Rowdyruff Boys. rrb/ppg, r
1. perfection

Hello fellow readers! I present to you, Aphoristic Snapshots, a collaboration story I'm working on with the lovely marisa lee. It's going to be one hundred chapters, so buckle your seatbelts and enjoy this long ride! I own nothing, marisa lee owns nothing (well, I'm sure she owns _something_, but not the Powerpuff Girls, seriously go ask her she doesn't). Alright, did you guys get that? Good, because that is the one and only disclaimer for this story. Eh, Butch and Buttercup are teenagers, like around 16 or 17.

c:

* * *

**Aphoristic Snapshots  
**~perfection~

* * *

No matter what she did, no matter how many times she messed up, no matter who she disappointed, he only ever had one thing to say.

"You're perfect," he would tell her.

Every time, it was the same exact thing.

When she failed her History test, he told her she was perfect. Even though she hasn't studied at all and the Professor grounded her for a week.

When she accidentally dropped an entire bookshelf down the stairs while helping an elderly Townsvillian move her furniture, he told her she was perfect. Even though the old woman had beat her over the head with her purse ("It was an ANTIQUE!").

Even when she lost to her own little sister in a mini wrestling match and almost died of embarrassment, he just laughed and told her she was perfect.

"I don't think you understand what the word 'perfect' means," she told him once.

He just smirked. "Yeah I do."

She raised a questioning eyebrow. "Obviously not, because you keep using it to describe me. I'm the opposite of perfect."

"And what do YOU think perfect is?"

"Perfect is... I dunno, like Blossom. She's the perfect one. not me. I bet if you look up 'perfect' in the dictionary, you'll see the smiling face of Leader Girl herself staring back at you."

He stepped closer, a grin on his chiseled face that lit up his emerald eyes. "I can't bring myself to believe that."

"And why not?" She lightly frowned.

"Because when I hear the word 'perfect," he said while tucking a strand of her ebony hair behind her ear, "I can't help but think of you."

She rolled her apple green eyes, "Really?" The girl shook her head, "No. No, I'm not perfect, like, at all." She snorted.

"What does it take to get you to believe me?" He growled and placed his hands firmly on her shoulders.

A sigh escaped her lips, "Butch..." She trailed off. "Say what you want, but I know it's not the truth." Her green orbs traced the scuffs on her shoes.

She couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes.

His brow furrowed, "'Cup, in my eyes, you are perfect. And if you don't believe it, well, there's nothing more I could do than say it to you every day of the rest of your life."

**-FadedIllusion101 :x**


	2. umbrella

Um. I didn't spend much time on this, obviously. It lacks that..._je ne sais_ _quoi_, so to speak. Blossom and Brick are teenagers, as per usual. Review if you wanna. T-T

* * *

**Aphoristic Snapshots**  
~umbrella~

* * *

Brick walked in the rain, the droplets of water pounding on his back before soaking their way into his crimson sweater. His footsteps sloshed around in the puddles as he trudged his way around the corner, his wine red eyes narrowed and taking side glances at the graffiti-ridden brick walls around him. The red 'ruff sneezed, the loud sound echoing in the atmosphere.

"What are you doing out here?" He stopped in his tracks when a feminine voice was heard from behind him, and the red 'ruff swiveled around to come face to face with his petite bow-topped counterpart. An obnoxiously large umbrella shielded her from the bullets falling from the sky, the vibrant red shade contrasting brilliantly with the scenery of downtown Townsville, which at the moment, looked like an old grey and white film. She blinked, her long eyelashes fluttering against her pastel cheeks before she opened her rosy pink eyes again.

Brick frowned, "Taking a walk." He glanced downwards and took note of the dainty rain boots that adorned her feet. "What about you? Powerpuffs don't usually hang out in the slums," his traditionally smirk graced his chiseled features.

She softly smiled as he rubbed at his cherry red nose, "I'm just making sure there isn't any trouble."

Brick scoffed and shook his head, the rain making his auburn hair darker than usual and his bangs hang limp in his eyes. He and his counterpart stood in the rain, Brick getting pelted with buckets and buckets of water, and Blossom with her prissy little self, silently stood under an umbrella, her small hands clutched to it like a life line.

After what seemed like eternity in the rain, cold, slender fingers stretched out and grasped at his calloused hands, pulling him closer and under the safety of the umbrella. Brick sighed, his back and neck feeling like a million bucks, and though he had to duck a bit to fit under there, he didn't care. At least he was out of the rain. A toothy grin stretched across his face as he looked down at his counterpart, "Thanks."

"No problem," she whispered, and he could just barely hear it from the deafening water beating against the puddles. She stepped forward, her tall counterpart following slowly next to her as she lowered her hold on the umbrella so he didn't have to slouch.

It was just then Brick realized they still held hands, and with a furious blush on his face, he wrenched his large hand away from hers. His eyes widened when she gripped tighter, refusing to let go. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, almost laughing out loud from the sight of her baffled counterpart, a look that rarely crossed his face. Blossom turned towards him, her pink lips curving into a smile.

Brick wasn't sure where they were going, and he honestly didn't care, but all he knew was that Blossom's bouncy curls kept bumping against their hands, and that her strawberry and peach perfume filled his lungs like an addictive drug. They were so close that he shuffled into her side a few times, almost knocking her warm and dry figure out into the freezing rain.

Once Brick could finally see through the foggy haze of the rain, he saw that they were heading towards the Utonium residence. The unusually square house, the odd circular windows, it was all a give away. He remembered this house, inside and out, because of his stupid, whiny, sissy little brother had gotten captured years ago.  
They clunked up the driveway and to the front door, where Brick's equivalent turned to him with kind eyes and a gentle smile. "Here," Blossom held out the red umbrella. "You'll need it." Brick nodded and took the umbrella, his skin tingling when their hands brushed. She let go of his one hand to unlock the front door, and he frowned at the sudden lack of warmth. The door creaked open, revealing a homey looking living room with a snoring Buttercup obnoxiously lounging against the couch and a solemn Bubbles surrounded with a pile of tissues, her eyes glued to the TV screen.

Blossom rolled her eyes at her two sisters, and with her facing away, Brick took this time to sweep his eyes over her body. He shook his head and was about to walk away when Blossom's hand shot out and stopped him. She leaned forward and softly pecked his cheek, "Goodnight, Brick," a pretty smile graced her pixie features, and she clicked the front door shut.

Brick stood like a fool outside, the umbrella hanging limp at his side, exposing him to the angry bullets above. A boyish grin was on his face, his ball cap on his head making him look even more like a little boy. He sighed and flipped the umbrella up, almost tripping over his own clumsy feet. With one last glance at the house, he saw Blossom in the center window, who giggled and sent him flirtatious wave. He stupidly waved back, that goofy smile on his face as he continued his walk down the streets and back to the grey and white, old film-looking slums of Townsville, a vibrant red umbrella over his head that carried fond memories.

**-FadedIllusion101 :x**


	3. tea

Um...marisa lee is amazing. She sent me this and my jaw just went *points down* after I read it. I showed my friend because she likes creative (this is very sweet and creative, good luck reading it, I fangirled) blues one-shots and she freaked out. Then I realized it'd be best to publish it...so here. Bubbles and Boomer are teeangers, again, because when are they not (I dunno, maybe marisa or I will flip the switch soon)?

* * *

**Aphoristic Snapshots**  
~tea~

* * *

Bubbles' favourite drink in all the world is iced tea. If I had to could all the money she's spent on iced tea, I'd be able to build my own iced tea factory. That's not an exaggeration.

I like iced tea, but it's not really my forte. I prefer hot tea or coffee, but I guess that's just me.

Bubbles will drink any flavour tea there is in the world, too. She's tried all the Arizona flavours, and she loves them all. Except the green tea, which for some reason she cannot stand. She's had the Arnold Palmers, the Honey Bear, and every kind there is known to man.

You're wondering how I should know, huh? Well, that's because every day after school, I drive Bubbles home. And every day on the way home, rain or shine, we stop at the gas station for drinks. I always get myself a Starbucks bottled vanilla frappuccino and she picks up a ninety-nine-cent can of Arizona iced tea. And every day, she picks a different flavour.

She wants to keep her options wide open, she says. She doesn't want the other flavours to feel neglected, she says. Whatever, right? It's her logic.  
So Bubbles loves iced tea, and I guess I knew that.

But it wasn't until she went to the hospital to have her tonsils removed that I realized just how well I knew it.

She was there for a total of five days, and on each day, for each meal, morning, afternoon and night, I brought her a can of tea. And on each can I stuck a baby blue sticky note that had a message on it, just for her. They were just little messages, like "Get well soon!" and "Miss you tons!", each one signed "xx -Boomer". The messages had silly things drawn on, like cats and butterflies and dinosaurs.

I didn't think much of the messages, they were nothing special to me. But they were to her. She kept every single sticky note and stuck them into the book she was reading. When she got home, and the sticky part of the paper was no longer sticky, she taped them onto her vanity mirror so she could look at them every day.

She told me she loved having something to remind her of me every day. That made me smile, it did. But not as much as what she said that first day back to school, when we went for our gas station beverages.

"I know I kept all those sticky notes so I'd think of you," she told me with a careless sip of Raspberry, "but come to think of it, I've always thought of you every time I drink my tea."

Now, to any regular guy, coming from any regular girl, that'd sound silly and meaningless. But for me, it was a gateway to my fluttering heart.

Because not only does Bubbles love iced tea, she thinks of me every time she drinks it. And she sure as hell drinks it an awful lot.

**-FadedIllusion101 :x**


	4. teddy bear

I wrote this during a softball tournament (my sister's mostly, but then I had one later on and I had to finish it up during innings and blah) and ugh. It um...Butch is, well, Butch in this one. And Buttercup. Yep, you got it. She's Buttercup. And you know what? They're both teenagers... Happy reading. T-T

* * *

**Aphoristic Snapshots  
**~teddy bear~

* * *

Buttercup trudged up to the entrance of Townsville High School, her sneakers wet with the morning's dew as the blinding sun coiled around her petite figure. Her choppy ebony hair, that was normally hanging in her face, was pulled back into a small ponytail. Buttercup's bangs brushed against her apple green eyes, and with an irritated grunt, she tucked the loose strands behind her ears. It worked, but as she bounced up the steps, casually waving to a group of friends and rolling her eyes at the blonde cheerleaders chatting animately, the bangs decided to fall and tickle her eyelashes again. "Hmph," she huffed, her pixie features going pink.

The shirt she wore had a small sticky stain by the hem. She shook her head as she recalled breakfast, leaving a quick note-to-self to never sit next to Blossom again. Though her older sister was an unbelievable leader, she was the clumsiest person you'd ever meet. The green 'puff crossed her arms as she brushed past people in the hall, another roll of her eyes as she poked at the syrup on her shirt, frowning at the texture.

"Hey, BC!" Mitch called by the water fountain. Buttercup waved and continued to swerve past the inconsiderate people that gathered in the middle of the hall to talk about their adventurous weekend. Well, not exactly adventurous. They didn't save the day from a colossal dinosaur with a menacing snare and tongues of flames dancing on its tongue, and they most certainly did not throw a gang of green-skinned thugs into jail to rot. If so, they should become a Powerpuff Girl themselves.

She clicked open her locker, tossing her neon green book bag in and lazily pulling out a ripped binder and a unsharpened pencil. She rested her forehead against the locker next to hers as she rubbed the crust out of her eyes, cursing time and how it flies by throughout the night. The green clad girl leaned back against the cool metal and examined her classmates.

Boomer was creeping up on her effervescent sister, who was reading the cast of their school play, The Wizard of Oz. Bubbles squealed as she read the list, jumping a few times and excitedly clapping, chanting on how she got the lead role of Dorothy. Buttercup rolled her eyes as Boomer whispered in her ear, right after her younger sister calmed down, "Boo!" She screamed and turned around. Bubbles pushed Boomer, calling him a name while he hooted amusingly. She stalked off, disappearing into the crowd with a slight scowl on her face. Blossom was at her locker, whipping out a textbook or two and tucking it under her arm. Out of nowhere, a paper airplane struck her in the temple, and she glared at her counterpart who stood a few feet away. He smirked and charmingly waved, which she snorted at as he brushed past her.

Buttercup was sneaking glances to her sides, making sure Butch didn't come and pull one of his immature shenanigans, like giving her a wet willy or poking her in the sides. Across the hall and to the left, she saw the devil himself. He was crouched down on the floor, peeking into his book bag and whispering words into the open zipper. She raised an eyebrow at her obsidian-haired counterpart, wondering if there was a frog or bug of some sort that he would toss down her shirt.

Buttercup walked over, noting how the teenagers were starting to disperse. Her footsteps echoed in the empty hall as she trotted to Butch. "'Sup, Blockhead?" Buttercup oh so warmly greeted.

To her pleasure, Butch squealed and quickly shut his book bag. "H-hey, Butterb-babe. How's it hangin'?" He stammered. The green 'ruff awkwardly held his bag, and with a light shrug and nod of his head, sat on it.

"Eh, not so good." She answered with a glare. "Say, you got anything in that bag?"

"What bag?" Butch questioned.

"Dude, do you think I'm stupid?" She muttered. "Seriously, what's in that bag?"

"Well, uh, you see..." Butch trailed off.

"Butch," she warned with a pointed look.

"I-l...stuff?" He hesitantly said, his emerald orbs fixing on the bag beneath him.

"Duh, Shithead," she snorted. Buttercup planted her hands on her hips, tapping her Converse-clad foot impatiently to an unknown beat. After a moment or so of waiting, she scoffed and roughly shoved him, making him fall off and roll over on the linoleum.

She reached down and snatched the bag up, "No, no, no, no, no! Butterbabe, I-"

A cackle was heard from the ill-tempered girl, "A teddy b-bear?" She lifted it up, collapsing to the ground in a fit of laughter, her binder falling to the floor with a loud slam. "Aw, was widdle Butchie talking to his itty bitty teddy bear? Was that it?" Buttercup mocked.

Her counterpart remained on the ground, a blush the color of his leader's cap spreading across his face and inching its way down his broad neck. "No, I wasn't talking to it. More like...well, I _whispered_ a few things to him," he clarified.

"Oh, it's a him?" She laughed. "Aw what's his name?" Buttercup held it in between two fingers.

"Hey," Butch ripped his bear from her grasp. "If you're not going to treat Dipper with respect then don't touch him at all."

"I'm sorry Dipper," she falsely pouted. Butch gently placed Dipper in his book bag and slipped it into his locker. "Didn't know you were so sentimental, Butch," she teased with a wink. Buttercup grabbed her binders and began walking down the hall, Butch slowly following behind her.

"I'm not sentimental," he mumbled. "I just care about things."

"Yeah, yeah you wuss," she waved him off, walking to the door of her first period class. She turned the knob of the door, pausing to think of a believable excuse about why she was late.

Before she walked in, Butch passed her, slapping a calloused hand on her shoulder and whispering into her ear, "Don't think I forgot about that blanket of yours."

Buttercup blushed, "H-hey!"

**-FadedIllusion101 :x**


	5. baseball

Written by the magnificent marisa lee! I cracked up while reading this, and I kind of felt secondhand embarrassment for Blossom. But that's only because...well, you'll find out. Go bake her cookies. Now. Brick and Blossom are teenagers in this, not like five-year-olds because that would be awkward and slightly creepy.

...REVIEW, DAMMIT. We crave them like you crave updates!

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**Aphoristic Snapshots**  
~baseball~

* * *

There were less things that Blossom knew about the sport of baseball than she knew about any other subject in the universe. She even knew more about the history of snails than she did about baseball. But nonetheless, she calmly agreed to attend Brick's game when he so excitedly asked her. She had to practically beg Buttercup to accompany her, for she knew if she was going to sit through two and a half hours in the smoldering summer heat on a hard painted bleacher, she at least wanted to be able to learn something. It was a lot harder getting information out of Buttercup than she had originally hoped, though. When she wasn't screaming at the batters, or the catcher, or the pitcher, or the runners, or the infielders, or the outfielders, or the ump, she was screaming at the fans of the opposite team who were "too peppy" and the players on the bench who were "wusses".

"So what happens when the runner gets to first base?" Blossom asked, trying desperately to keep up with the game. She clutched her iced tea in her left hand and shielded her face with her right. Perhaps she should have been taking notes.

Buttercup cursed not-so-quietly as the umpire called a strike on the batter and threw her empty soda can angrily onto the grass behind them. Blossom sighed, ignored again, and picked up the can.

The ebony-haired girl wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead and blinked at her sister. "Huh? Oh, nothing happens. He's gotta get all the way around before it counts as a run-YOU IDIOT, WHY DID YOU SWING AT THAT CRAP?"

Before Blossom could say anything about the fact that the pitcher had thrown a _baseball_, not 'crap', the ump called the batter out and the young man slumped away to the dugout.

"Our school's team sucks," Buttercup moaned. Her eyes drifted from the game to the back of her sweat-drenched hand to Blossom's iced tea. "Hey, mind if I take a sip?" She snatched the tea from Blossom's hands without waiting for an answer and downed half the bottle in one swig. "Thanks." Then her eyes darted back to the base. "Hey, your boy's up at bat."

Buttercup's nod directed the rosy eyes to fall on a familiar young man with fiery orange hair tucked inside an ocean blue baseball cap and protected by a large black batter's helmet. She paid close attention to the way Brick clutched the bat in his hands, one sporting a black-and-white glove. He carelessly swung the bat a few times as he stepped up to the plate, his white dirt-stained pants bending with his knees as he prepared himself for the pitch. The pitcher made a signal at the catcher, but Blossom didn't take care to notice, for she was far too concentrated on the way Brick was standing, wiping his sweaty temple on the collar of his blue shirt, knocking the bat back and forth ever so slightly in his hands, the baseball pants hugging his thighs and butt so tightly-

The pitcher tossed the ball directly over the plate, and wouldn't you know Brick hit it! Blossom felt like the only one cheering as she watched the redhead's reaction to the hit. His gaze trailed up into the sky and then settled on Blossom with wide eyes. The crowd gasped, probably shocked at Brick's hit, Blossom thought. Until Buttercup let out a cry and jumped in front of Blossom, spilling her uncapped iced tea onto the bleachers.

The crowd started clapping and Blossom opened her eyes. When had she closed them? Before her stood Buttercup, large green eyes searching her sister's face with confusion, baseball in hand.

"Jeez Leader Girl," she said with a low whistle, "you really don't pay attention, do you?"

Blossom's face flushed as Buttercup tossed the ball back over the fence and Brick laughed. She blamed him because he'd been the one who distracted her. She would've seen it coming had those shorts not been so damn tight! Who knew a guy's butt could look so good?

She now knew more about baseball than any other sport, and even about snails for that matter, but it wasn't exactly the sport that drew her back to the next game.

**-FadedIllusion101 :x**


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